


Shooting Star

by Wolfsbane259



Category: Instant Star, Lost Girl
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Homeless, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Crossover, F/F, Friendship, Homelessness, Punk Rock, doccubus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1202500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsbane259/pseuds/Wolfsbane259
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Bo kills her boyfriend under odd circumstances, she runs away from home.  While trying to survive on the streets of Toronto, Bo meets Patsy Sewer, a punk rocker desperately attempting to forget her past as Lauren Lewis and suppress her new found feelings for the mysterious Bo. AU. Doccubus. Crossover with Instant Star. T for now, M later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Posted this on fanfic and I thought I'd post it here as well! Please let me know what you think, because it really helps me get chapters out faster. This is Doccubus with a large focus on Bo and Kenzi's relationship, so go and read if you want to heal your heart after the horrors of Season 4. Disclaimer: Neither Lost Girl nor Instant Star belong to me; they're not even from my country! I'm just playing with the characters and making no profit.

Lauren couldn't sleep without the weight of her seatbelt tight across her chest. It was grounding; when she woke from her nightmares to the cold, dark Toronto nights, the snug fit of the belt across her pounding chest tied her to reality. She peered around the interior of her beat up Cadillac illuminated by the eerie cast of the street lamps, her face pale and clammy.

It had been about a year since she began living by her stage name, Patsy Sewer. It had been a bit longer since she had moved out of her house and she wouldn't have been surprised if the only reason her mother had noticed her absence was the growing pile of laundry and lack of baked goods. Contrary to her punk persona, Lauren did not leave in a haze of rage, rock and roll, and stick-it-to-the-man, but rather in the middle of the night with her ratty backpack and as much food as she could carry.

And yesterday, when she snuck out of the luau and escaped both Jamie's desperation and the bureaucratic bullshit of record labels, she returned to her haven, her baby. She had enough weenies in her backpack and didn't need anymore dickhead music producers to satisfy the ceaseless gnawing in the pit of her stomach, though the little P.R. rat seemed keenly interested in her outfit that afternoon.

As dawn broke over the city, Lauren wolfed down the tepid mini-hot dogs, briefly pausing to pick the lint off one before shrugging and shoving it down the hatch. Jude and her crew might have been vanilla as hell but they were cool enough and honestly she hadn't had so many regular meals in, well, forever.

Two trucks, two trains, and a rusted over Buick that reeked of weed later, and Beth had arrived in Toronto. After giving her hippie helper a charming pat on the arm, wandered around the city until she found a nice, quiet alleyway just off a busy-enough street that meant that nobody in their right mind would try to start trouble. Not that she couldn't handle herself, as she had recently learned.

Beth Dennis had always thought her strength came from her family's farm work and home-cooked meals. Her father, too, possessed a quiet strength. For his relatively small stature, his ability to throw a bale of hay into the back of the truck and to calm an anxious horse was always rather impressive. But, as she had learned that his genetics could in no way be the case, she was only left with her adopted mother's reasoning.

She was a monster.

From the pocket of her worn leather jacket she pulled a faded Polaroid. Mrs. Dennis, nearly frothing at the mouth, tossed it at her as proof that Beth's freakishness was no fault of her own. She flipped the photograph over in her hands and drew her fingertips across the meticulous cursive on the back. _Bo. The beast has a name,_ she thought, bringing her hand to her throat. Her fingers caught on the necklace she hadn't even realized she was still wearing. The cross her parents gave her for her confirmation had become as integral as a birthmark to her, but now all she could feel was the silver burning into her skin. In one motion she tore the chain from her neck and tossed it down the alleyway, never to be seen again.

As Bo curled herself into a tight ball, a small, quivering voice pierced through her mind: _What if it is the devil inside me?_


	2. To New Beginnings

Lauren adjusted the aviators perched on the bridge of her nose and slid her arm onto the open car window. At 10 am, the air still held the morning crispness but under the warmth of the sun she decided to forgo her usual leather jacket. She toyed with the bottom of the steering wheel with the tips of her heavily-ringed fingers before hooking a spoke with her index and whipping the car to the right in a cacophony of screeching tires and blaring horns.

"Crazy bitch! Get of the road!" snarled a man from his ostentatious black Benz.

Lauren stuck one lazy middle finger out at her new acquaintance. "Here's to you, Mr. Pencil-Dick."

There was a nagging tug behind her ribcage. Wanderlust had always been a constant in her life; yet, this morning, when she set out behind the wheel of her car, she found herself driving with an unknown sense of purpose. Soon, she had realized she was halfway to Jude's recording space.

She would never let Jude know, but the time they had spent together was the closest Lauren had ever come to "hanging" with a friend. She didn't need Jude – she was doing just fine without anybody – but maybe Jude the Prude could actually use her guidance.

Lauren turned down an alleyway and, noticing some movement in the peripheries of her vision, screeched to a halt. There was a figure hunched by the mouth of the alleyway, but deep enough in to be unnoticeable to passersby. Lauren watched the figure with a small frown as the girl lifted her head. She met the most intense blue eyes that made her heart hammer in her chest. Her gaze startled away, then returned to her subject quickly. She must have been seeing things, for this time, she was met by a pair of deep brown eyes that made her stomach clench uncomfortably. Her breath caught like a stone in the back of her throat.

The girl, who appeared close to Lauren in age, kept their gazes fixed as her mouth considered a few words, before settling on a low, "Hey."

Lauren gulped a few times before finding her voice. "Hi."

The girl slowly came to her feet, sweeping her curtain of brown hair behind her ear. "I... I really don't usually do this. It's just –" she paused, shaking her head. "You know what? Never mind."

She began to walk away when Lauren snapped from her stupor and grabbed the girl by the sleeve.

"No. Please, tell me," Lauren said with a softness that Patsy had never felt.

"I... well, I was wondering if you had any extra food?" Her gaze dropped to her feet. "I'm not really sure what to do; I've honestly never done this before. God, I'm just _so hungry_."

Lauren's expression was inscrutable as the girl spoke, and the gaunt girl began to panic as Lauren remained silent. The girl shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't –"

"Yeah, sure."

The girl started. "Wait, what?"

But Lauren had already bent over through the driver's side window to rummage around for her backpack. She couldn't help but notice that as Lauren bent over, the short plaid skirt rode up and revealed the creamy skin of her upper thighs. Her gaze was predatory and longing when Lauren turned to face her once more. Upon noticing the look, Lauren flushed uncomfortably, but felt the edges of her lips turn up in a small smirk. _Was she just..._

The girl snapped out of her haze. "Hm. What?"

Lauren chuckled softly and unzipped her bag, reaching in and pulling out her bounty from last night. "Weenies?"

Despite her embarrassment, the girl smiled brightly at Lauren, who was suddenly much happier about her decision to share. She stepped forward and carefully picked a handful of mini-hotdogs from Lauren's outstretched hand. The girl's free hand then reached out and gently stroked Lauren's wrist. A wave of pleasure passed through Lauren's body and she felt as if hot water ran through her nerves. Her breath hitched and before she could stop herself, Lauren whispered, "Who are you?"

She could see her freeze for a moment, eyes wide like a caged animal. Lauren flipped her hand over and ran her thumb across the girl's knuckles.

"Bo." The piercing syllable broke the tense silence. "I'm Bo. Who are you?"

Patsy. She was going to say Patsy; she should have said it. It was what she had replied to that question for the last 3 years. But instead, she said, "Lauren."

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Lauren. Thanks for the weenies."

Lauren took a step back and bumped into the car. "It's no problem. I'll see you around, then?"

"Yeah," Bo said as she retired to her spot by the wall. "See you."

She was in a daze when she finally pulled up to Jude's recording studio. Lauren's thoughts were so clouded by her encounter that she absentmindedly stopped halfway up the stairs. She couldn't manage a concrete though; rather, she was overwhelmed by a haze of dark eyes and an ache that nestled in her ribcage. Her vision only cleared once some other mangy punk staggered up the stairs, eyes her as he passed. She gave him a tight-lipped smirk and said, "Bite me, asswipe."

"Fuck off, lesbo."

"Ooo," she cooed, "You wound me."

She made her way up the rest of the stairs to the second floor, pushing open the industrial door to Jude's practice space. Today, her usual swagger was more of a slump. She let her heavy boots announce her presence as she walked over to thee couch and plopped down. Jude looked up from her guitar with a slight raise of her eyebrows. She stilled her hand against the strings and waited in silence.

"Well?" Jude's husky voice broke was jarring in the empty air. "Are you going to at least say hi?"

Lauren looked up at Jude and gave her a small nod. "Oh. Hey," she said, her voice low and soft.

Jude adjusted the guitar in her lap and gently propped it against the side of her squishy chair. She leaned forward and rested her chin in her palm as she watched Lauren pick at the long threads of the sofa. She slapped her hands to her knees and pursed her lips. "Okay, then. If you're not going to talk, I suppose I can talk _at_ you instead." Her gaze bounced around the room, from the hole in the wall thanks to Spiederman to the lurid red White Stripes poster that Patsy had plastered, askew, by the makeshift recording booth. "Things have been... off... with Jamie recently and I really don't know what to do. I mean, ever since the whole thing with Tommy, everything's been so different, you know? It was always me and Jamie and Kat, dreaming of making it big some day." She shook her bangs out and ran a hand across her forehead. "The plan was for me to be the rockstar, and Jamie the big time manager, and then Kat would be my personal stylist, with her own fashion line. But that was just a dream. We were just kids. And now that it's actually happening, I just, don't know how I'm supposed to act anymore, because it's not how we dreamed it. Life doesn't work out like that. Even though we're all on the way to these big dreams, we're so fucking disconnected. It's, I, I feel like I'm racing into this future we had planned out, and I'm pulling ahead of them, but somehow I feel like I'm the one that's been left behind. And after years of somehow being the loser in school, all of the sudden the people who would have, who should, hate me, now adore me? Or they say they do? I never dreamed I would have one guy fighting over me, let alone this mess, but now I just want to go back being invisible and righting stupid little songs in my stupid room with Kat and Jamie."

Lauren let out a low whistle. "Well you did say you were gonna talk."

"What about you, Pats? Do you miss high school?"

She chuckled gruffly. "Wouldn't know. I never went." At Jude's curious gaze, she explained, "I was home schooled."

Jude's expression softened. She stopped fidgeting. "Oh. Were your parents teachers?"

That produced a guffaw from Lauren. "Nah, the only thing I learned from Mama was how to turn the laundry machine on."

"And your dad?"

" _No one likes a smart-ass,_ " she intoned in an affected deep voice.

"Oh." Jude pursed her lips. "When was the last time you got the chance to see them? I forgot to ask - are you from Toronto?"

Lauren crossed her arms over her chest and set her jaw. "When I came over, I wasn't expecting the fucking Spanish Inquisition."

"Look, Patsy, I'm sorry." Jude stood softly and set herself down on the arm of the sofa. "I just realized that you know so much about me and, well, maybe I should listen for a change."

Lauren uncrossed her legs and scooted her hips forward in her seat, maximizing her careless slouch. "You sure talk a lot for somebody who's listening." She sighed, and ran her fingers vigorously back and forth through her dark locks before smoothing it back behind her ears. "No, I'm not from Toronto – and don't even ask, I'm not going to tell you where. All you need to know is that I'm from Hicksville, just close enough to suburbia to hate its fucking guts. I haven't seen my – them – in three years now."

Jude takes a breath, but she just can't help herself. "Why–"

"Well the last time I saw them they said ' _don't fucking come back here again_ ' so I haven't fucking gone back."

Tentatively, Jude placed a hand on Lauren's shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. Unconsciously, Lauren's head lolled toward the comforting contact, which even surprised Lauren.

"Hey, I'm sorry for complaining about the shit-uation with my parents so much. I shouldn't–"

"Life isn't a competition between whose sucks worst. Bad situations are bad, not quantifiable."

Jude let out a small huff of laughter.

"What?" Lauren said with a wide eyed smirk.

"Quantifiable? Just when I think I'm getting to know you, you become more of a mystery to me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Hope you liked this chapter. I know that Lauren might seem really AU to you guys right now, but just pretend it's the beginning of season 4 and we're finally getting to know the real her... I'm attempting to use this AU as a way to explore the darker roots of Lauren's character that even exists in the canon. Next chapter plans include Kenzi and some succu-games. Let me know what you think!


	3. Sisters

She waited behind the cat food shelves, eye to eye with a white, squashed-faced cat glowering from the front of its orange packaging. She heard the door jingle and peered out from behind her curtain of black hair. The girl who entered was gorgeous. Kenzi had never been attracted to girls – and was certain she never would be – but hot _damn_. No matter how nervous this girl looked, she seemed to exude an innate confidence that hooked Kenzi behind the navel and drew her to this stranger. The girl looked up and Kenzi gasped and ducked back behind the shelf. She needed to focus. This girl was the perfect opportunity. As the clerk eyed the newcomer warily, Kenzi crept through the narrow aisle, never losing sight of her unwitting abettor. One by one, she positioned cans of food inside her shirt, forming a pouch that would easily be covered by her bulky jacket. She watched as the girl picked a sandwich from the cooler case and brought it to the cashier. Their voices filtered to her spot by the baked beans, but were made indistinct by the hum of electricity. As they continued to speak, however, their voices rose above the white noise.

"Please, please, I can work it off–" she heard the girl beg. Kenzi cringed – she was obviously new to the game.

"No, you get out now!"

The girl reached across the counter and gently grasped the shopkeep's hand. "Please," she whispered hollowly. Kenzi's mouth dropped open as red pulses of light – or some sort of energy, as far as she could tell – passed from the girl's hand up the grocer's arm and the taut fury on his face melted away to a calm dopiness. The girl's eyes, that once seemed dark, now glowed an electric blue. "Please." She sent more shockwaves across their connection.

"Anything for you," he said dreamily.

"Holy shitballs, batman." The cans slipped out from the hem of her shirt and clattered to the ground.

Two sets of eyes immediately snapped toward the source of the noise. One had returned to brown, and the other pair's bleariness filtered away to reveal rage, now directed at her.

"You again! I thought I told you, out! Out!" The grocer reached behind him and grabbed the neck of a wooden baseball bat before brandishing it at her.

The girl at the counter took a few steps back. His gaze softened and he reached out to her.

"No, not you. Please don't go."

Her panicked gaze met Kenzi's. Kenzi's heart bobbed in her throat, and before she could think thoroughly about it, she screamed, "Run!"

Kenzi sprinted out the door, grabbing the hand of the paralyzed girl as she shot past her. They ran until, breathless, they ducked behind a large brick building.

"What–" Kenzi panted, "the hell– was that?"

"So, what you're telling me is that weird glowy thing you were doing in there is like, some sort of lurve juice?"

Bo scrunched up her face. "Lurve juice? I'd says it's more like a... sway of sorts. Like, I know that it turns them on; I can see them get turned on. They emit some sort of aura, and it gets stronger when I... ya know..."

"Juice them?" A smirk split Kenzi's pale face.

She quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah. It's kind of like, it puts them on my side. They would do anything for me, just to continue feeling that feeling, and it makes me feel... great. Powerful. Sexual –"

"Woah, buddy. I'm gonna stop you right there."

They were walking side by side in downtown Toronto, invisible to the suits that brushed past. Kenzi grunted after the third shoulder check, pulling over to stand by a storefront. "Zhopa."

"Jeez, are you okay? That looked like a hard hit." Bo gently rubbed Kenzi's injured shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm... fine..." she trailed off as she gazed through the diner's windows. "Wait." She grabbed Bo's arm with a surprising strength, considering her diminutive form. "C'mere, chica. I've got an idea."

They slid into a booth by the wall, green pleather squeaking as the scooted into the seats. Kenzi nimbly picked up the large plastic menu with her thin fingers and flipped through the pages quickly.

"Ooh, I think I'm going to get a milkshake. And a burger, with fries. Ah! They have borscht. My life is complete," Kenzi said, running the tip of her tongue across her lower lip.  
Bo smiled, but bit her lip. "How exactly are we supposed to pay for all of this?"

A devious gleam shone out through Kenzi's dark bangs.

"No. No no no. You saw what happened last time."

Kenzi huffed and slumped in her seat. "Ugh, have a little faith in yourself, girl! You obviously were on the right track, if it weren't for my butterfingers. Even then, he seemed to still dig ya, in the creepy zombie kind of way." She straightened up and grasped Bo's hand. "How else are you going to get better at this – whatever the shit _this_ even is. You've obviously not been on the streets as long as I have, but you're going to have to learn really soon that it's all about survival. Everybody's got at least one thing their good at, that they hone, they practice, that they're proud of, that allows them to survive. Yours is just a little different, and awesome-er."

Bo grinned, dimples burrowing into her normally smooth cheeks. She caught the gaze of the passing waitress, a cute, round-faced asian girl, and grinned toothily.

"Oh shit, is that what your game face looks like?" Kenzi suppressed a grunt as Bo kicked her under the table.

The waitress shuffled up to the table. "Hey, are you ready to order?" She eyed their worn clothes and gaunt faces, pursing her lips slightly. "Look–"

Bo grabbed her hand and ran her thumb across the server's knuckles, sending light pulses of energy. "We're hoping to, ah, celebrate today," she said throatily. "So... we were wondering... _I_ was wondering... if we could have some sort arrangement?" She husked out the last word, sending an extra pulse through their connection that had the girl moaning.

"S-sure. Yeah. Yes. Oh, wow."

Kenzi stepped in, expertly ordering a small feast off the menu, before sending the blushing waitress tottering off to the kitchen. A stilted silence fell over the table as Kenzi gawked at Bo, flitting her gaze away each time their eyes met.

"Screw it," Kenzi muttered. "Some things are too stupid to say out loud." She pulled a pen out of her coat and quickly scribbled on a napkin that she then pushed toward Bo. "Here."

The note had two lines of print, each with their own check box:

_I am a wizard_

_I am a demon_

In the past couple weeks, the question of who – or what – she really was, had been rolling around in her head, but posed to her so bluntly, it made her chuckle. "Aren't wizards supposed to be guys?"

"Hey, bring it up with Terry Pratchet."

"Who?"

The aghast expression on Kenzi's face was replaced childlike enthusiasm as the flushed waitress rushed over, arms full of dishes. They eagerly help her rid her arms of the greasy plates and exchanged wide smiles before digging in.

An easy silence settled between the two as they shoveled down mozzarella sticks and milkshakes, happily munching at the crispy fries placed in the middle. After they had demolished more than half of the feast before them, Bo slumped back and groaned, rubbing her stomach.

"Giving in that easily, eh?" Kenzi said through a mouth full of borscht that had painted her lips purple.

Bo opened her mouth to respond but was left breathless as she spotted familiar, grungy blonde locks. "I'll be right back," she said as she quickly picked up the plate of bacon and jogged out the door.

Kenzi turned around in her seat and perched with her eyes peering over the back of the booth, carefully watching her new friend's path out the door, halting in front of a well-used car.

"Lauren, hi," Bo said, waving shyly with her unoccupied hand.

The lithe blonde twisted around, raking her long, ringed fingers through her hair. She faltered when she saw Bo before her, the girl who had occupied her thoughts for the past few days.

"Bo." Her voice cracked, and she shifted to play with a spiked bracelet hanging loosely on her wrist. Her heart leapt eagerly in her chest, urging her to reach out. She set her stance wider, sliding her hands into her pockets. "It's Bo, right?" _As if that name hasn't been ringing in my ears._

"Y-yeah. Well, I was just-" Pointing to the window, she continued, "And, well, I saw you here and thought I'd..." Bo trailed off, searching Lauren's face for the answer. _Wow, she's pretty. I wonder if she's ever kissed a girl before?_ Her hand faltered and she was reminded of the heavy plate in her hand. "I thought I'd pay you back? Bacon? For the weenies?"

Lauren cracked a grin and sidled forward, picking a particularly crispy piece from the proffered plate. She moaned appreciatively as she bit down on the rasher, licking the grease from her lips as she munched with a tight-lipped smile. Bo's face flushed and she gripped the plate awkwardly.

"What are you doing around here, anyway?" The voice that escaped her lips was throatier than she expected.

"I was uh," Lauren swallowed, "Picking up some books, actually." She gestured to the second-hand bookstore, its façade like the spine of a book, thin and jammed between two larger edifices. At Bo's quirked eyebrow, she continued nervously, "Books on science, mostly. General chemistry, organic chemistry, biochem. Did you know that pomegranate juice can be used to limit the presence of free radicals..." she trailed off, looking down at her feet and shuffling against the pavement. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. You're-that's pretty amazing." Bo's expression softened and she could feel her heart melt into her stomach.

"I was also going to pick up some new amps, too," Lauren shot in quickly, fumbling to recover her slumped nonchalance. However, her attempts only resulted in her stumbling off the curb. Bo quickly grabbed her arm, bringing the punk uncomfortably close. For a moment, all they could hear was the other's breathing.

What came out of Bo's mouth was barely a whisper. "You have little specks in your eyes that look like stars."

Lauren could feel Bo's warm breath on her lips. _If I just leaned in..._

The sound of a blaring horn broke them apart. They both giggled nervously as they shuffled away from each other.

"Look, I've actually got to go." Bo's crestfallen face made Lauren's chest squeeze hopefully. "I-I'd love to see you around again. I mean, if you want to see me, I would want to see you." She rolled her eyes at her own bumbling. She reached into her back pocket and withdrew a card, which she hesitantly held out to Bo. "It's this bar I play at. You should come by some time. If you want to."

Bo took the card and inspected it, running her fingertips over the glossy letters. "I'll be there with bells on."

She walked back into the diner in a daze. _With bells on? Who even says that... But, god, she was cute. And smart. And funny._ She slid back into the booth, unaware of the dopey grin monopolizing her face.

"Um. Okay. Holy hell, chica, what the frak was that? Are you batting for the other team? Because I wouldn't blame you with a booty like that." She snatched a piece from the plate resting in Bo's lap and gnawed at a piece. "So, spill. How'd you meet, what's her name, have you boned yet?"

"Kenzi!"


End file.
